"May he stick there for the next ten minutes!" muttered the sly little man, a wish in which not a few joined—a certain fair lady especially.
But he is up and at work again, none the worse. The horses were going at a great pace, and the jumps were taken with beautiful precision by both. Bradon began to look anxious, the sly little man fidgety, and Lord Plunger wore a thoughtful look.
The anxious girl's face was flushed to scarlet with excitement and emotion, and she trembled fearfully.
"It will be a close thing," said the sly-looking little man; "the mare is better than I thought."
There were only a few things to be jumped now of any consequence—the two brooks and the big wall. The horses there turned, ran through an opening made in the wall, and finished on the flat in front of the carriages. The brook is now approached for the second time: the mare comes at it first, jumps it, and topples down on her nose on the opposite side; the Captain is pitched forward on her ears, but recovers himself like lightning, and is away again, leading Fortescue at a terrific pace.
But what is the little sly man doing? As the mare recovers herself he is seen to dart across the course and pick up something flat, and put it into his pocket. "By G—d! turn out as it will we are saved," he muttered. "I'll lay any money against the mare," he screamed out. But no one took him.
The wall is now approached again; the Captain leads; but as the mare is about to rise he turns her sharply round and gallops in a different direction. Screwdriver refuses it too.
"Damnation! I thought it," said Bradon; "there's a blackguard's trick!"
"Oh! poor Charles," ejaculated the beautiful Alice; "my poor colours!"
"The Captain's cleared it!" shouted out the multitude, as the mare was seen to take the wall splendidly.